The Return of Hezzord is the sequel to Attorand’s Sword.  

The twenty-five-year old necromancer Hezzord comes back to his native Zondon after two years of enforced exile in EU.  Zondon is on the road to recovery from the last war. Queen Abellin  travels far and wide to neighbouring lands, signing up new  treaties. Zondon prepares to defend itself against an even greater attack from its foe. Unknown to Dmitry, he was chosen by Attorand’s Sword to be its keeper. At the same time he falls in love with a young woman called Galita.

The endless bickering between the daggers and inquisitors leads to amusing skirmishes. Political manoeuvring at the court of Queen Abellin goes on and on. The Forces-of-Darkness attack Zondon for a second time and the sheer number of enemy troops overwhelms Zondon.

The only hope is in Attorand’s Sword, which is kept in the city. Queen Abellin casts a spell and channels the tremendous  energy from Attorand’s Sword, through Dmitry its keeper, to Zondon’s entire troops. Its soldiers then increase in strength tenfold and Zondon’s luck turns for the better. Will Queen Abellin and her people win yet again a resounding victory against the Forces-of-Darkness?

In Store Price: $30.00 
Online Price:   $25.00

ISBN: 978-1-921731-15-0    Format: Paperback
Number of pages: 275
Genre:  Fiction/Fantasy

By the same author:




Author: Efim Shmakov
Imprint: Poseidon
Publisher: Poseidon Books
Date Published:  2010
Language: English


Efim Shmakov 


Efim Smakov

Efim Shmakov is a twenty-year-old student at the Russian State Central University of
Physical Education. He lives in Moscow, where he finished Music School. He plays accordion and enjoys sports. His favourite sports are skiing, sambo, archery, dancing, fencing and chess. He likes playing computer games. He also works as a social worker helping elderly people.  

At seventeen, he wrote and published his first book, Attorand’s Sword. The original version of his literary works are in the Russian language. His talent as a writer is obvious. One has only to read his charming novels to really know Efim. His humour is unique. He is a young man with unmatched talent.


This book is a follow-up to Attorand’s Sword, which was published in 2009. It is the second book from a series called ‘Daggers and Inquisitors’.

The first war left Zondon in a state of shock. Queen Abellin needs all the help she can get. She waives Hezzord’s punishment and he returns from exile. He joins his friends in the services of the Queen of Zondon. Dmitry falls in love with Galita. After wrestling Macbel, he and his friends establish ‘pax Dmitry’ putting some stability back into his surroundings. Galita accepts Dmitry as her steady boyfriend. They take lessons at the Academy about how to do battle with Zondon’s enemies. Known only to the Queen and a few of her friends, Dmitry was chosen to be the keeper of Saint Attorand’s Sword. This sword has miraculous qualities. Only the chosen keeper can channel all the energy, which emanates from the sword, spreading it evenly to all the other soldiers, and he can only accomplish this under a spell cast by Queen Abellin. She travels to faraway lands to make alliances with Zondon’s friendly neighbours.  

Artborg, with Kate and Kelly are working as daggers for the Royal House, as is necromancer Hezzord, who has been blacklisted by Abbot, his worst opponent. When the second war starts, all the people in Zondon are up in arms against the Forces-of-Evil. Zondon is surrounded on all sides.  

Only a miracle can save them from total annihilation. And the miracle happens.



On a sunny hot July afternoon, three friends were coming back from their walk. They went along the sandy footpath. Everything around them was green and almost silent. One could only hear birds singing and dragonflies buzzing.

“What weather!” said the fair-haired young man, called Max. “It was really sweltering hot for the last two weeks already. It’s killing me. The earth underfoot is like on fire. It’s a bad omen.”

“And do you remember the glow?” butted in Artem, the dark-haired lad, who looked funny. “As if an entire army was stuck somewhere? What’s going on, it’s beyond one’s understanding. Besides that incident with the bridge…”

“It’s better not to remember,” interrupted the red haired Timur. “In broad daylight, it broke right in two. Just think about it. That day there were lots of people gathered there. And do you remember that incident with the creek? It’s impossible to forget.”

“A funnel suddenly appeared in the middle of our creek,” Maxim said again. It drowned as many people as it could, and it suddenly vanished. Then, the special services were called in. But they detected nothing suspicious. The road and the small swamp were left behind. The three friends went further and further, walking in front of the cemetery. Despite the huge trees growing around, it wasn’t cool here.”

“Perhaps we could drop in?” asked Timur, pointing to the cemetery.

“Come on, look what’s happening around,” said Maxim. “Let’s better go home.”

“Is it too much for you to do that?” noticed Timur. “You are a miserable coward. The whole school already makes fun of you.”

“That’s not true,” Maxim defended himself. “I am not afraid of anything.”

The three friends entered the cemetery’s ground. There, they started running, prancing, laughing, throwing stones and doing everything of that sort. With each moment their actions became more and more provocative. That couldn’t last for long.

“Can you eat a candy while on a grave?” Artem asked soon.

“Yes,” answered Maxim, and he took calmly a sugar candy, and he put it into his mouth.

Somewhere aside there was a shed on wheels, under which in rainy weather the dead people were buried. The construction was in rather bad condition. The paint has been stripped off by the weather a long time ago. The walls and the roof have become overgrown with moss and grass. It’s hard even to imagine how many dead people have been here.

“Can you lay under the shed, on a tombstone?” asked Timur unexpectedly.

 “I can do that. But I won’t,” was Maxim’s reply.

 “That means you aren’t up to it,” Artem summed up. “You’ve been tied up to your mother’s apron strings for all your life.”

 “That’s not true,” Maxim raised his voice. “Let’s go. I’ll prove to you all.”

The three friends directed their steps towards the shed. There, one of them lied down on the stone. Strange pictures started floating before his eyes. Soon the young man could handle the situation. He stood up on his feet, and he passed on the baton to his friends.

 “Well, now it’s your turn,” Maxim said proudly to his friends.

 “Who’ll be the next?” asked Timur. “Go ahead. I’ll follow you.”

 “Why me?” Artem raised his voice. “As a matter of fact that was your idea.”

“Ok, it was mine,” said Timur. He has never been that pale before. And he has never regretted with all his heart, that he said something.

After Maxim's friends have been on this stone, God knows where from, there came a wild howl, getting louder with every moment. The three friends got scared and they ran away.

Having jumped over the fence, the three friends ran to the road. Running across the road, Timur was struck by a truck. The drunk driver has knocked him down, and he didn’t stop to help. Artem and Maxim have run up to the body and found out that Timur was dead.

 “What are we going to do?” Maxim's face was expressing fear.  “If our parents find out about this incident, it’s our arses which will be kicked. And we won’t be allowed to see each other for a long time.

 “We must urgently get rid of the body,” said Artem while being perplexed. “Let’s throw the corpse beyond that gully, and go further away, pretending that nothing happened.”

So they did just that. They dug a shallow grave with their own hands and lowered the body in it. Then they covered it with leaves and dry grass. Somehow they had no other sobering thoughts in their minds. The next morning Artem and Maxim met at work in the suburbs. Meanwhile, the rumour about Timur's disappearance has spread in a flash around the village, and far outside its limits.

“I’m scared,” said Maxim, who has been distressed all night long. “Let’s go and tell the truth.”

 “Remember, not a soul should know what happened yesterday to Timur’s body,” said Artem while his face looked really threatening.

 “Don’t you see what’s going on around,” said Maxim. He was devastated.

 “You are a fool. If you tell a word, I’ll have to kill you,” said Artem, and he picked up a stone from the floor and he threw it against the wall with all his might.

A big snake appeared from behind an old container, and it bit Artem’s foot. Convulsing in pain Artem died immediately, without saying a word. It was all over for him.

 “You are going to be the next,” it seemed to him that a voice came from the snake’s direction, and next moment the creature disappeared.

 “Artem, do you hear me,” the last hero grabbed-hold of his friend’s front-part of the shirt, and he started shaking him.

Later, frightened to death, Maxim ran out into the street, and he began to talk to people. Soon after Artem’s funeral, some mushroom pickers found Timur's body. And they announced his family so they could give him a proper burial. Everybody was shocked.

The next morning Maxim was found dead in his bed. There was declared a period of mourning. Lately the village was plagued with such extraordinary occurrences that have never happened before. None of the villagers realized what was really happening.


*          *          *


Two weeks after the hostilities ended, Zondon was coming back to normal. However, shortage of people after the defeat, affected everything. The war had taken lots of lives.

Meanwhile, young man Dmitry together with his classmates was sitting at Macbel’s apartment at night, and they were playing ‘spin the bottle’. On the opposite side there was sitting Galita, a red-haired beauty. Dmitry was passionately attracted to her.

 “Twist it,” Bel, the sturdy fellow, said spitefully, looking at him crossed.

Dmitry took calmly a small bottle in his hands, and he spun it. I don’t understand these people. Why it’s possible in such a simple game, for the arrow not to point to any person you’d like. The only thing needed is to turn it around with proper effort.

As he wanted, the bottle stopped opposite Galita. Dmitry stood up and he kissed her passionately. His best friends were sitting across him. They were few years older than him. Neon, he was dark-haired, and a medium-sized guy, who had round prescription glasses. He studied with Dmitry at the Zondon’s Magic classes. And Ligan, he was the light-haired young man training to be an Inquisitor.

Macbel, Dmitry's sworn enemy, was far from being a lone wolf. He had even more friends than anyone else. And all of them were losers. Where does he find them?

“Let’s go out,” said Bel angrily. “We’ll talk outside not to disturb anyone.”

 “I won’t go anywhere,” Dmitry answered calmly, trying not to look in Bel’s spiteful eyes.

“It’s not a question, you son of a bitch,” Macbel shouted at him. “Let’s take a break.”

 “Why are you shouting,” said Dmitry, who was indignant. “I haven’t done anything bad to you.”

Dmitry, Neon, Ligan, Bel and his friends left the room, after they closed the door behind them. This couldn’t last for long. In the end there should be only one left. They couldn’t live together.

“What the hell is going on?” said Macbel. He was eager to kill anyone with his glance. “One more look at Galita, and you are a dead man.”

 “She’s my other hal…” Dmitry didn’t finish his answer.

“I don’t care who your other half is,” continued Bel.  “If you come up to her once more, I’ll kill you. If you think I’m joking, you are mistaken.”

 “We are made for each other,” confessed Dmitry. “I love her, and she loves me.”

“Tell this to an old woman at the market. What do you hope for, you complainer,” said Macbel, and he burst into laughter together with his friends, who were standing behind him. “I really don’t care who loves whom. I want you not to come close to her any more.”

“Why do you pick on him,” said the young inquisitor, who stood opposite Macbel, at the same level with him.  “Find yourself an equal opponent, and fight with him. Dmitry is much younger than you. Why do you only bother those weaker than you? Try to act like that with somebody who’s more robust.”

 “You butt out of this, you inquisition’s agent, or I’ll smash your face,” said Bel and he pulled out of his pocket some brass knuckles once taken away from Dmitry. And he started mockingly swinging it right and left.

“You are beaten at every turn. Torturing people is only thing you are able to do.

The inquisitor just grinned in reply. And he pulled a knife out of his belt.

 “One more word from you, and I swear I’ll cut your throat, the way the inquisition does.”

 “You are a madman. You feel protected by the Inquisition and that’s why you show off.

“You can’t talk! I simply try to protect myself, and my friends, from you.”

“Screw you,” Macbel made a face, and touching his opponent’s shoulder, he vanished from sight.

So they had to leave. The party was spoiled. As it was night, the friends had nothing to do but to go to club, and continue enjoying life there.


*          *          *


At the same time, Artborg, Kate and Kelly were coming home. He was a thirty-five years old man, with green eyes and black hair. He was dressed in his black raincoat. And he was wearing on his belt, a sword made of pure silver with exotic patterns. Kate was a twenty years old blonde, with blue eyes. She was wearing a short skirt and an ordinary top. She had a sword on her belt too. And Kelly was also a blonde with blue eyes. She was twenty as well. She was dressed in a short skirt and a top, very similar to her girlfriend’s top. The two young women weren’t twins, not even sisters. But they were good friends. The three of them were coming home from an assignment.

 “What on earth caused those lads to lie down under a tree?” said Kate, who was perplexed.

 “Are you asking me?” Artborg said puzzled. “Where do I come in? What’s it to me?”

 “But still it’s a pity,” Kate raised her voice. “A whole week has passed since then.”

 “What do you want me to do?” Artborg got worked up.  “You didn’t even know them. Should I sympathize with you?”

 “Is there any messages from Hezzord?” asked Kelly. “I guess there’s nothing new. The only thing that makes me glad is that he should be released soon. He must be tired of his exile. If I were in his place I couldn’t stand it.

“Sure you could,” has grinned Artborg.  “An alternative isn’t there, let alone being insistent or trying to get your way. It’s said that he would be released soon.”

“I miss him,” Kelly started imagining.  “I wish we meet him soon.”

 “Yes, that would be nice,” noticed Artborg. “There was no news from him for quite a while.”

There was quiet for some time. But soon, it was cut short by Kate and Kelly.

 “I’m tired. Leave me alone. Let’s talk about something else. Ok?”

“You were doing nothing, except for sitting on a chair and staring at a monitor,” said Kate.

 “It’s not about that,” answered Artborg. “I just can’t get back to normal, after the day before yesterday’ special mission.”

 “You aren’t the only one who feels that way,” Kelly agreed with him.  “I too can’t recover.”

Our three friends were walking along a narrow footpath. Tall trees grew around it. Something strange was going on with the weather. It was hot even at night. Therefore there were soda vending machines installed at every turn of the road.

“Are you thirsty,” asked Artborg. “It’s not too late yet for you two, to turn back. What do you think about it?

 “Of course not,” the young women answered in chorus. “Besides these vending machines stand everywhere. And one always can trigger them by means of magic if you ask me. Ha-ha!”

The trees were left behind, and a big apartment block, where the inhabitants of Zondon lived, could be seen ahead. It was certainly visible from all directions. That if the building’s view wouldn’t be blocked by high cranes.

It was a huge five-floor apartment-block. It was built with white stone, and with columns and with statues of lions, where more than a thousand people lived. Our three friends walked up the marble stairs on the second floor and turned right.

“We could go to my place, tonight,” offered Kate. “Anyway, there is nothing for us to do. And it’s quite late.”

 “With pleasure,” Kelly agreed. “Let’s go in. Don’t stand there as if you were riveted to that spot.

The door opened automatically before their eyes, and they went inside. The three friends were standing in the spacious hallway, which was painted white, with red strips going close to the floor. The hall was full of coat hangers, fully loaded. Artborg’s old raincoat, which was left there a long time ago, was still hanging there.

Kate entered her bedroom, which at first looked bare. There in the middle was her soft bed. Opposite was a home cinema, occupying the whole wall. There wasn’t much furniture. Some trendy paintings were hanging on walls. And on a side there was a mahogany desk.

 “What are we going to do?” asked Artborg, who was already in her bedroom.  “Tell me my darling.”

“Stop playing the fool,” Kate looked at him angrily. “Guess.”

 “I don’t understand, what are you talking about?” asked Artborg, pretending that he doesn’t understand

“Enough,” shouted Kate. “Or you won’t get anything today.”

Artborg and Kelly have been lovers for a long time already. Katie stood up and went out of the bedroom, going to the kitchen to eat something. The door-lock clicked and Dmitry barged in the room.

Dmitry wasn’t her brother or her cousin. Kate recently rescued him from inevitable death. Zondon didn’t provide him with housing. So she just sheltered him at her place.

Kate looked at the clock in the corner. Its hands were showing two o'clock in the morning.

 “You are late,” Kate sighed. “How is the party in the apartment of…”

 “How do you know,” interrupted Dmitry. “As I remember, I haven’t told you anything about it.”

 “I know everything,” Kate summed up.  “I adore reading other people’s thoughts.”

 “Why don’t you sleep?” asked Dmitry. “It’s already late.”

“I can’t sleep,” Kate answered apologetically.  “By the way, Artborg and Kelly are here. They are sleeping in my room.”

 “Let’s go to my room then. We’ll chat,” offered Dmitry. “Anyway we remained alone.”

Dmitry’s room was much smaller than Kate’s room. There simply was no place to stretch. To the left hand-side there was a bed. To the right hand-side, there was a desk. Behind it, there was the wall. In front, there was a TV. It was possible to touch all these things without even getting up from the bed. Kate sat down on the bed and started listening attentively. While he lay in his bed, Dmitry talked about them having really good time at that party, until that awful quarrel has happened.

 “Nine of us were sitting on the floor,” began Dmitry.  The moment I was going to kiss a girl, the light was suddenly switched on. We have looked around. Nobody was there. Traces of magic were absent too. Then we got really frightened. However, we have soon continued the game.

 “I remember, when I was studying at the Academy we also liked to play ‘twist a bottle’. But such events have never happened to us.”

“What else were you doing, if it’s not a secret?” asked Kate suddenly.

“Can you imagine? One of Macbel’s friends hit the lads each time he shook their hands, instead of kissing young women,” Dmitry said laughing.  “That’s pretty tough. At first sight he looks like a normal guy.”

 “It’s a pity we didn’t manage to go out,” sighed Kate. “It was impossible even to quickly come home. We have to stay on duty all day long.”

Soon Dmitry finished his chatting. Kate took the floor, and she begun to tell everyone about lost children. She had no time to tell this story before, and about Hezzord who should return soon from exile.

“Why did they put their noses where they shouldn’t,” added Kate. “By the highest standards, it’s all because of their empty life’ paths. I don’t understand such people. How could they be happy with themselves?

“I agree,” said Dmitry. “Would a normal guy lay down in the shade, and do nothing, if he isn’t insane? Maybe the dead were commanding them to a greater or lesser extent. But still, they shouldn’t behave in that way.

 “You know, Hezzord should soon return from exile,” Kate started dreaming. He is one of Artborg’s friends. I told you so much about him. He’s a cool dude. I miss him so much, that I can’t stand it any more.”

 “I’ve heard about him,” Dmitry sighed. “You’ve drummed this topic into my ears during this month. Let’s give up the Hezzord’s subject for today.”

 “Still, it became so hard to be on duty after the war was over,” Kate changed the subject. “The new requirements were established, not like earlier ones. We have to sit all day long. It’s impossible to leave my place of work. Not to mention the fact that there are several guys who seat at each place of duty.”

 “I understand. I’ll consider this in the future,” Dmitry’s put an end to the conversation. “Let’s better talk tomorrow morning. I haven’t slept enough for two days already. Besides, tomorrow I’ll have to go to the Academy, as always.

Kate kissed Dmitry and she left his room.

The clock’s hands in a hall were showing half past two. It seemed that they’ve entered the room just a minute ago. And now she is glad she leaves it.


*          *          *


Early in the morning Queen Abellin opened her eyes and she got up from her huge heart shaped bed. Sunlight was getting evenly in the bedroom. The room was painted in white and pink colours.

Queen Abellin looked around. It was still hard to recognize her after the war. She was very beautiful. Her long white hair hanged down to her belt. Her green eyes sparkled in the low light. Her waist was so slender, that it was possible to embrace it with one hand. Her delicate features inspired passion.

 “Michel,” said the Queen calmly.  “Bring me my breakfast.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” a voice was heard. God knows where from, a French butler appeared. He was a man of medium height, with a small beard, holding the Queen’s breakfast on a silver tray.

 “I think I’ve lost my appetite,” said Queen Abellin, looking ceremoniously. “Take the breakfast away.”

 “Your Majesty didn’t eat well for two weeks,” said Michel.  “Please, have some breakfast. Your Majesty looks very pale.”

After his plea, the butler has left with the Queen’s untouched breakfast. Somebody knocked at the bedroom door. Professor Tuibe, the best friend of Queen Abellin, and the second person of the whole Zondon, entered the room.

She was a blue-eyed brunette with straight hair. She was as beautiful as the Queen was. Today she was wearing black leather pants and white cotton t-shirt.

 “Take a seat,” the Queen said softly, raising her head.

“Why is Your Majesty so sad?” Tuibe asked proudly.

“I’m all right. It’s just that everything happened at once,” sighed Queen Abellin. “The inquisition… the dead… the evil spirits…”

“Don’t lose hope Your Majesty,” said the professor, trying to cheer up the Queen.  “Everything is going to be ok. I’ve heard the news about necromancer Hezzord. It says he would return soon.”

 “Yes, these rumours have been being spread all over Zondon, and far beyond its limits, for a long time,” added the Queen. “I don’t understand, why do people treat necromancy so badly. It can’t be true that everyone who is engaged in it were bad people.”

 “I do agree with Your Majesty,” said Tuibe.  “Our hero isn’t a bad man in comparison to others. If most of necromancers are bad, it doesn’t mean that all necromancers are bad. From time to time such people can be found among Zondonians, and among Inquisitors. Generally speaking, it’s wrong to evaluate a person according to his ethnic background.

“Stop talking. I have a meeting in five minutes. And by that moment I should be ready to meet the representatives of the Northern Inquisition,” concluded Queen Abellin and she waved a finger. And here she is, already in a white ceremonial dress, with the crown on her head.

 “Your Majesty is so pale,” said professor Tuibe, who looked at Queen Abellin’s face with great attention. “I think Your Majesty doesn’t look her best today. May I cast some spells on Your Majesty, so the representatives of the Inquisition wouldn’t see the pallor on your face.”

Tuibe raised a hand over Queen Abellin’s face and started her magic spell. When all the spells one after another were cast, the door swung open and professor Mannnon entered the room.

He was an older man, an experienced warrior. He was the master in the art of fighting. His black hair hanged down to his shoulders, though it wasn’t as long as Artborg’s hair.

 “Your Majesty,” said Mennnon loyally.  “Here is a letter that the Nothern Inquisition has handed over to me. They write that they’ve been waiting already for ten minutes, for Your Majesty to receive them to this audience, and that their patience isn’t infinite.”

 “How many of them are there?” Queen Abellin asked him. “Have they sent ten representatives as they did last time?

 “This time they’re only three, Your Majesty,” answered Mennon. “I think that Your Majesty will find that three representatives will take less of your precious time.”

“That will do. Stop being impolite,” smiled Queen Abellin. I’m still the Queen, and you are just my friend. Don’t forget that it was me who made you the third most powerful person in Zondon. See you some other time.”

The Queen ran out of her bedroom, she passed through some more foyers, she turned to the right, she went down the huge stairway, and she went into the throne-room, which was at the end of a corridor, just at the same floor to her bedroom and her study.

The Queen has hardly sat down on the throne. She carefully adjusted her clothes. She put on her crown. She took the sceptre in her hand, moments before the hated Northern Inquisition envoys entered the chamber.

“What do you want,” said Queen Abellin with majestic voice, though she was furious inside.

 “As Your Majesty knows, the great sword of Attorand requires a constant protection,” begun the younger envoy.  “We have sent people who would look after the sword.”

 “We don’t need any help, especially yours,” the Queen raised her voice.  “When we’ve asked for your help, you never showed up. Where were you when the army of the dead attacked Zondon?”

 “The sword didn’t have time to get used to the new place yet,” started talking the older envoy. “That because it has been at our place for a long time. We pray to let us look after the sword in order to avoid further difficulties.”

“What nonsense,” grinned Queen Abellin. “The Attorand’s sword is the ideal weapon. And it’s simply not possible that anything bad could’ve happened to it. The sword had been carried from St. Petersburg to Moscow. Gentlemen, we all know very well, that this sword has self restoring powers.”

 “I would ask Your Majesty not to insult us,” said the senior inquisitor, who was silent before he finally couldn’t hold his tongue.

 “As far as I know, you are one of the most repulsive Russian Inquisitions, even worse than the Western one. Why should local residents stand still? They should’ve burned all of you, long time ago — especially you, ungrateful inquisitor, unfaithful in your opinion. And my answer is no.”

“But Your Majesty…” said the younger inquisitor, “if you could appoint at least one custodian, who will keep an eye on the sword. Is it so hard to employ one of our inquisitors?”

 “Then, the famous sword is just a toy, if it cannot resist even a place changing,” said the Queen while she looked high-handedly at the inquisitors’ faces.  “You want me to think that the sword is a fake? That’s my final word.”

 “If Your Majesty and your people want war with us, you’ll get it,” said the older envoy while he stood up.  “Believe me, for a long time we have been longing to feel the taste of your blood.”

“Get out of here, before you say a single more word. Or I’ll give order to chop off your heads,” said the Queen with confidence in her voice.  “

 “As Your Majesty wishes,” said the older Inquisitor. “But we’ll return. And Your Majesty will later regret, for refusing now our demands.

“I think it’s time for you to leave,” said the Queen for the last time. And the inquisitors rushed out of the chamber, like a cork from a bottle of Champagne.

The Queen has indeed changed lately. Her smile vanished from her face, and a sad look appeared instead. In addition to all, Queen Abellin has grown thinner. Her waist has reached forty centimetres. When the Western Inquisition came to Zondon last time, with the aim of taking away the western areas, Queen Abellin has defended these territories, but she didn’t know what would happen tomorrow. With each day, the nasty Inquisition became more and more disrespectful. They were of the opinion that the Queen was weak.

Actually the sword has rather recently chosen its keeper, and it did not require protection any more. Dmitry was the keeper. These were the circumstances during the military operations right after the lad has taken refuge in Zondon. Dmitry carried the sword, so a bond between him and the sword happened — nobody knows yet the whole story. The sword has picked Dmitry out of millions of people. It seems that he is the only lad worthy of bearing this burden. That’s how the lad became the keeper of the well-known sword.




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